The Hob's Bargain by Patricia Briggs

Author:Patricia Briggs
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Tags: Fantasy - General, Magic, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fiction, Fantasy, General
ISBN: 9780441008131
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 2001-10-14T04:00:00+00:00

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Without his warning I would have fallen as the pony surged forward to follow with a speed that lent validity to my first vision of the animal. This little wildling that looked like a hill pony made the fastest horse Albrin had bred seem a plodding workhorse in comparison. The hob didn't seem to have much trouble keeping ahead of it.

The hob who called himself Caefawn glanced obliquely at the woman who rode Espe.

The white beast snorted at him, telling him that he was too slow. The run had been good for Espe. Like Caefawn, the beast needed a good chase now and then to keep life interesting.

He wasn't so certain Aren was better for this day. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to bring her with him. Convincing the villagers wouldn't be all that hard.

He'd been watching their struggles since he'd become aware of them this spring.

They were losing, and losing people grasped at any straw, no matter how strange it appeared to them. Despite their distrust of magic, they would take his bargain and regret it later. He was trying for something better. Aren might be the key to that-or not.

Killing the raiders had done something to her. Remembering the rage she fought with, he hoped it had been the right something. Vengeance was a cold, hard thing.

He'd taken her not to use as a spokesperson in the village, but to see the enthusiasm she'd shown looking at the warning stone on his mountain this spring.

Instead, she showed him that she could perform the dance of death with courage.

A useful quality, but not much fun.

The way we took wound through the orchard and berry brambles, over fence and hedge. My knee throbbed with every stride, but it was better when the hob and Page 146

the pony slowed after only a few minutes of running. Never having wandered through the manor's pastureland from this direction, I wasn't certain where we were. Judging from the marshy ground and the thick

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brush, we might be close to the bridge. If the pony had been as big as Duck, we'd never have made it through.

Gradually I heard the murmur of quiet voices. Caefawn and the pony edged forward until I could hear plainly everything the raiders were saying. They used the king's tongue, not patois-gossip, not orders.

"Where's the capt'n?" The speaker was a boy with a thick southern accent.

"Off looking for some poor fool he can send into that copse to lure the berserker out of there." The second speaker was a man full grown, and his accent reminded me of Moresh and Wandel's. He must be noble-born, or raised among them.

"Why didn't he order us to do it?"

The older man laughed."Too smart. He knows I'd refuse, and he's not good enough to force the issue-and he can't give the order to you while I'm here. Poor bugger."

"The capt'n or me?" There was a touch of humor in the boy's voice, and the man laughed.

"Neither. I meant the berserker. He's been trained- no way a one-armed man could fight that well without some training.

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